Skin
by Viburnum
Summary: AU MANGA Shuya and Shogo die in the end leaving Kazuo in Noriko's care. Can Noriko help the tormented young man who has decided to learn to be human. To learn somethings you need to be sensitive as skin. KazuoNoriko
1. Something

**Disclaimer:** I wish I could own Battle Royale and especially KAZUO KIRIYAMA I LOVE THAT GUY!

**Author's Note:** Well I hated the fact when Kazuo died in the manga (he dies in all versions cries) so here is an alternate aftermath. I hope you guys enjoy it. The pairing is unusual but I think it can work out. I mean Noriko is kind-hearted, something Kazuo could use besides Mitsuko/ Kazuo has been done too many times. Also, go read "_Iceberg"_ by Auraborealiis if you want another unique pairing of Kazuo's or if you just like to read one of the best written fics on the net. Well I hope you enjoy my fic!

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**Skin **

I.

**Something**

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Perfection; perfect, the chosen one, I am the flawless. Flawless is so difficult. But, not to me; never to me until now, until it just…maybe it was difficult. I think I was never flawless. 

I feel _her_, looking and probing, with her naivety. With her brown eyes as she has yet to step into my room. She always does this. First thing in the morning: mid-way in the afternoon and before going to bed. She sees me as if she has _no_ choice but to just _see_ me. I hate her.

Before I could be a "nobody" and still be a "somebody". Now, I can no longer do that. For three months approximately I have laid down in this futon. _They _cleaned my head wound and I had a bandage covering my cheek. Now in place of that I have a scab. I never got wounded before. Not permanently anyway. I hate this. I hate her. If it wasn't for her I would be titled the winner. My existence would move on. I could not have been troubled by the dead and/or the living. Now, everything, something, troubles me. All things trouble me. My existence has borne life. Life of sensations and questioning: my ever-present curious mind now must suffer normalcy. Normalcy as a teenager, I was elevated over the status. Now I feel like I am in someone else's body. Years of logic had not prepared me for experience. I am lost. Lost, I never was lost. I hate her.

Maybe, maybe…when I hear her crying…I think…as she cries in the nearby room…her room…that I was always lost…I wasn't like other people…I'm glad she's crying…

These sensuous attachments that trail me now, what are they? It feels like seven or ten years of feelings that were suspended now have all emerged. Emerged to what? a blind, deaf-mute of their language. I feel so frustrated. I wish I could scream and SCREAM AND SCREAM…but I don't have the energy. I'm not used to screaming.

Once it was all diluted black and white and grey. Now it is a kaleidoscope. Everything is iridescent. It hurts me. It hurts my eye. My left eye was punctured. _They_ say it might heal. I don't care. I think I can manage with one eye. Actually, I know I'll die lying here in this futon. Everything I do now will amount to nothing. Actually, I realized that things I did before also amounted to nothing. Only I guess before I knew no better. I guess I never grew up. The concept of it, "growing-up", stopped the day the…never mind. I don't like to think at all at times. Before I use to think and read. Now I need to think deeper. I'm…scared of it. I don't like doing things anymore. I guess it was always difficult and easy for everyone. For me it was never anything. I guess I cheated my way in this world. Now I pay the price.

Now, everything is so radiant. White is white, black is black, blue is blue and red…is…red. The bad thing…the bad thing…the bad thing…! Why? Why? WHY? WHY SHOULD I REMEMBER THE BAD THING! I DON'T WANT IT! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU NORIKO NAKAGAWA!

WHY DID YOU SHOOT ME?!WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! I did things before on impulse! No longer was there logic or technicality! Now I must think internally! I must remember the bad thing! How my mother died shielding me! I hate this! I hate her! I feel something rolling on my face…feels like water…

Why does she cry? I was just thinking…is it pain…why should she feel it…? Why? Is it because Shuya is dead? Or is it because Shogo is dead as well? So, what? Maybe…maybe it was protection…like my mother…Shuya died but he protected Noriko…Shogo died protecting her…She's such a pain…such a pain…I can hear her crying again…my mom…was I a pain to her too? She died giving her life up so mine would still go on…

We are here now. The place that Shogo possibly said can help. I have been here with her. I don't go out of my room. I just lie down. I sleep the whole time. I am a person again. It's difficult being a person.

But, I can feel it now. Contentment – the thing you feel. I could never feel it. No matter what I did I never was I content. Whatever I did followed a consistent cycle. It was never anything more. Now even as I sleep I feel happy. I felt a bit overjoyed in the island…Mitsuko was beautiful…she was like me…but I killed her…I think my heart couldn't accept her…I feel the rolling water again on my face…

Now what? That's what comes incessantly in my mind. Before I just did things: Out of curiosity – I was always a child: I never believed in wrong and right. I guess because I never grew up. I was forever a child. Now the egg of that phase is broken. I feel lost. I don't…I don't know what to do…

I remember Noriko holding me. She felt warm. Shogo had cleaned my wound. He had died because I had wounded him. I recall Noriko coming in front of Shuya and screaming,  
' Don't please Kiriyama!' she saw my trembling hand, ' Please don't!'

I just dropped it, the gun. I saw Kayako in her. Kayako, She, didn't run away. Even when she knew I was going to…kill…her…she had someone…Hiroki…I…I've…never had anyone…no one…I don't want to be alone…

She saw I was alone. She cried for me. Because…Because I could no longer stand…she saw it then…in my eye…it was no longer flat. I remember her running towards me despite Shuya screaming, ' Noriko Wait! He ain't safe!' She held me. I closed my eyes. She was so…warm…I never felt that warm…I liked it…

Do I really hate her? Why do I hate her? The people, that storeowner told me, ' Son – you can go and talk to her. She, I know she needs you.' He said that as he bandaged me. I wanted to tell him 'Ok' but I said nothing. Not to anyone. I wanted to…I wanted to talk to her…Why didn't I?

I see their faces. I feel water on my face again. Mitsuru and the boys, Izumi looking horrified, those two girls calling…calling…out for help…I helped them find their way to heaven, Oda: I guess he could have changed his spoiled ways, Hiroki protecting Kayako, Yutaka and then there was Shinji; he deserved to live because he was determined and then there was Mitsuko. The first time I saw a girl nude. I guess I felt lust. She was perfect. Her mind was alone…like mine…but, I guess inside…I couldn't accept her. She had a bad thing too. I didn't want to get hurt again…she wanted the same thing. I HATE MYSELF! I HATE MYSELF! WHY?! JUST BECAUSE OF A FUCKING COIN?! A FUCKING COIN THAT TOLD ME! LIFE ISN'T AS SIMPLE AS FUCKING HEADS OR TAILS! THEY WERE PEOPLE! THEY WERE LIVING LIKE ME! I KILLED THEM! WHY, WHY AM I ALIVE! WHY?!

Noriko, you were so warm. You protected me. But, why don't you hate me? Noriko, please hate me. Why do you always check up on me? Please hate me…it'll be easier…please don't care…do I care about you?

I can hear you crying. Don't cry – don't grow cold. Stay warm. You're so lovely. I want to know you but…but…why? Why? I don't understand anything…anymore…no, I never understood things…but I want to understand you.

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**Author's Note:** Someone once said in a forum that even if Kazuo was ever to become the most successful man in the world he would feel nothing, no contentment as he possessed no feelings – I incorporated this well-though examination into my fic. So tell me what you guys think? I'll update soon.

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	2. Depth

**Disclaimer:** I own Battle Royale Yeah! – Oh wait dammit! Only a dream! (Cries)

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**Skin **

II

Depth

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When the reality of it hits me, I feel – I feel – awkward: Awkward… The word just hits me…Is death awkward? Is life awkward? Is the whole universe awkward? Am I awkward? Because, because I survived. I don't know, I don't know – I don't know – am I going insane? Am I…I…I…I DON'T KNOW! 

I cry, all I can do is, cry. Cry for all of them, Cry for Shogo, Cry for Shuya, Cry for Kazuo and for myself. It's only me and him, Kazuo, I don't know if this could work. What would Kazuo do? What would he do? I was curious. My plan is to go away to America. Will he join me? Or, will he stay here and…hide…

Not the "Kiriyama" thing to do. No, Kiriyama never really _hid_ himself. Well, that was the façade he grafted onto us. He was always hiding. At the end of the day and the end of the physical ordeal, I realized. I realized we all never knew Kazuo. To us, he was Kiriyama. The absolutely handsome, talented yet strange boy in school, who could and would excel in everything: the game made me see he can do it; he can excel – even in killing. He was efficient. I had once slightly disliked his perfection. Why would I not? There was no normality in it. He would win without arrogance, march without care and do his capabilities justice but, but he was estranged…estranged from anyone. I had never seen an expression of his I could count as an expression. His face was mute and lost from it. It was always blank. Blank as a solid surface: impregnable and magnificent, and frightening. Blank as the dead; in the end it was all horrid blankness. It was impossible to call him…human.

Now, it's all so different. I remember Shuya telling me that everything will be ok. Shuya is now gone. I remember how that one soldier just wouldn't quit. He lunged at him….at my Shuya…then after a struggle…both him and the man were dead…it took some seconds for Shuya to penetrate the man with his spearhead and on the impulse the soldier fired…his gun was abnormally close to Shuya's head…I never saw him so…so drenched…he…he didn't say goodbye…couldn't…I wanted my Shuya…to say goodbye…to say…ah…ah…my chest…my chest…it's hurting again…why…my heart…Shuya…say goodbye…just once…protect me…you protected me…I'm useless…I couldn't protect you…Shogo…then Shogo went away to his Keiko…I was alone…He was staring…I screamed 'IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED!'…he stared…and stared…then fell asleep…Kazuo slept…as if their deaths were his lullabies…Shuya, say you love me…I love you…SHUYA! SHUYA! NO! NO!!!! NO!!!! NO!

I fall down on the floor – remember Shuya I drew you on the island. Shuya, Shuya, I'm…I'm so sorry…for being weak…can you ever forgive me? Shuya I love you. I…I…uh…uh…

' Noriko! Noriko!' the man comes running towards me and holds me, everything starts looking black…Shuya I see your smile…I…Owww! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! He slapped me three times, ' Get a hold on yourself my dear! I know it's difficult.' He becomes softer as he provides a sense of paternal affection as he rubs my reddened cheek, ' But, try ok my dear.'

He knows I'm mentally traumatized to some extents. He knows it's because of Shuya's death. You start loving someone and expect living a life with them and then…they're gone. He's a nice man. I think he knows my pain. He knows I might need a doctor. I have no choice but to suppress this. This aching, throbbing mind can only be cured by willpower and prayer.

' Where's Kazuo?' I ask; it was something I did. All the time, I would ask of him. He was the only one who survived aside myself and…in these three months I have never gone to talk to him. Only when he was asleep or lying in an angle in his futon where he wouldn't really see me I would check on him. I didn't know how to brave a normal conversation. My nerves gave way to complete numbness if ever I glimpsed him pacing, which he sometimes did, in his room.

These habits were not the usual habits of Kazuo. In school he always read or, as Kayako once whispered to me in class, daydreamed. In it I guess it was an active thing. I never saw him doing anything else. Yes, with his gang he caused mayhem and brutally messed up the Yakuza (which was an incredible feat) but other than those things, nothing. Only school things like attending classes, painting and playing the violin – he was so accurate, so specified, so exquisite and so perfect in all he performed I grew to admire him despite my slight hesitation in liking him. He was so _perfect _that he scared me. His looks not crooked; he was immaculate in beauty and flawlessness in both physique and talent that I sensed that there was something **wrong** with him. He never ever seemed to be over-exerting himself but I guessed he hid himself, the side effects to his beauty. How right I was I came to know now.

' Kazuo is eating lunch dear.' The storeowner smiled; so he was awake, ' You must be hungry. Let me fix you a good bowl of Ramen. It pours out the bad things from the mind. The most medicinal food I ever ate!' he smiled brightly, ' I'll call you on the table when I fix it up.'

It was now or never, ' I guess…' I stammered, ' I wanna eat with Kazuo in…in…his room…' I guess I needed the company.

He looked surprised as if he felt he heard wrong then smiled, ' Yes dear I think that's good idea. I guess he needs the company too.' He realized my wishes. I guess when you are terribly alone others could sense it.

I approached Kazuo's room as if I was approaching death itself. The experience made me nervous but not truly frightened. That island was death incarnate and I survived it. Did that mean that Kazuo was the devil incarnate? Many would suggest it. I did not believe it. As Shuya said and I always also knew – he was a kid like me. No, not like me: but, he seemed smaller, more fragile. I realized that when I held him: A little child in a young man's body.

As I entered he looked. Our first true eye contact in months: his black eyes met my brown ones. His eyes were so different now. Not flat as a lizard's as Shogo once explained. There was a rim of water vibrating, pulsing through it now. His heart was alive.

' I…' I stammered, ' May I…may I join you Kazuo…?' I looked down. I was exceedingly nervous. Here I stand before the boy who could have killed me mercilessly three months ago and I blush and I want to eat lunch with him. God plays the fates so awkwardly at times as if the music comes from an abyss of another dimension.

' Please…please do…' he said it almost desperately.

' Alright.' I sit next to him. Silence: I pick my chopsticks and slowly nibble my food. He does the same. ' Is there any pain?' Contact, ' Do you still feel severe pains in your head or elsewhere?'

He stops and looks at me, ' No.' his face is stoic but there is a nervousness: he can no longer conceal it, ' I feel no exhausting pain anymore.' He answers then asks immediately, ' Did you think I was still in pain?'

' Yes…I…' I look at him, his eyes, our eyes, we focus on each other. It's frightening, ' I…you sleep so excessively…' I told him straightforwardly, ' I assumed…you were exhausted.' Maybe, he was. It was like Kiriyama never to tell others anything. So funny, it was Kiriyama before, now, it is Kazuo – I call him Kazuo now. Kazuo is a nice name. Makes him look softer and natural; it doesn't distort him as his family name Kiriyama does. Actually, I like this frankness between us.

He looks down, ' I guess there is nothing to do except sleep.' I feel guilty now. I think I should have started talking to him from before.

' I bet…' I started, ' I bet Mr. Tanaka would bring us some books if we asked him…' I smiled, ' Then you could read again Kazuo.'

' What's the use.' He looked gloomy and then angry, ' What's the use of anything – any of those fucking things.' Before I could say anything he glared at me, ' I'm a fucking murderer Noriko. Do you think reading will rehabilitate me?'

He suddenly looked surprised seeing my nervousness. I had never seen Kazuo upset. He looked down. He seemed ashamed of his sudden declaration. ' Yes.' I mumbled.

' Huh.' He whispered. Looking at me with such a focus that he almost looked like his old self only his face was no longer that stoic and it seemed slightly confused. I was becoming amazed on how innocently his expressions flowed off his face. It was like he was posing for a self portrait.

' Reading may calm you. Isn't that a sort of rehabilitation?' I suggestively assert the information, ' I think it would be nice. You always seemed like you loved reading out of everything.'

' I _never loved anything_.' His face was looking at the floor, so shadowy. His eyes seemed cold, ' My love for things died the day my mother died saving me. Afterwards I only did things to survive because I guess I could not understand death so I feared it. That's why I tossed that coin for heads or tails: either way I was going to survive. I only cared for myself because I forgot – I couldn't laugh, cry or smile _properly _anymore and it hurt…it hurt badly…after the bad thing…the car accident…I could no longer be a person…so I wanted…I chose to be a machine…it was simpler that way…I could be lost without anyone missing me…and most of all I needn't face death. Because I started believing that reckless emotions of love and affection can kill…like it made my mother shield me when that truck hit our car…she died on the spot…her…her body crushed…my head…still got hit… the splinter cause my humanity to die…I was left without normalcy…I was scared…subconsciously…for the surface felt empty…I just thought if I moved on efficiently…the bad thing would lose…then I would get mom back and then smiling, laughing and crying would come back…You…why…am I telling you…all this…it's your fault…you! You did this! Had to shoot me you bitch! Had to shoot me! It's so hard being a person! You must feel! I…' he started crying after he had grabbed the neckline of my shirt and then he just moaned in absolute agony as rivers and rivers of years and emotions suppressed broke his dam of blankness. The machine had broken out from the womb of apathy and has become finally human.

I sobbed, I had to. Poor Kazuo, so much had happened to him. He had to suffer all by himself; I don't want him to suffer anymore, not alone, that's truly painful. Murderer or not, he was still a child. He still needed me. I embraced him and his head was on my chest, ' Shhh, Shhh, it's ok Kazuo.' I felt so sad for him I had tears in my eyes, ' You needn't be alone, I'll be there for you.'

He looked at me, ' Noriko…' he put a hand on my cheek. I instantly blushed, ' Will you stay with me? Will you make me real? I want to be real again.' His hand was so warm. I blushed but then composed myself.

' Of course. I'll be there for you Kazuo-kun.' The "kun" came out with my smile before I could stop it. I really wouldn't understand why it came out. But, it suited him remarkably. Kazuo was a very nice name.

' Kazuo-kun…' he repeated, letting his tongue feel it. It was a new terminology for him or, ' Sho – Sho used to call me that.' He whispered, ' You know what…what…I did Noriko…' this didn't sound good, ' I led him to a forbidden zone…I knew he was following me, so…so I sat down to think…how could I…get rid of this boy…who had always wanted me sexually…' oh my, ' I decided to behead him…so I pretended I was using a bathroom…I tied one of my water bottles to a string…it seemed I was pissing forever…I got out from the back way and then he saw me…he started crying when he heard the "ping"…his head exploded…and you know what I did Noriko…as I saw his head rolling off the hill…I smiled…I smiled and I walked away…' oh, Kazuo you are crying, ' I SMILED! I FUCKING SMILED! 'CAUSE I GOT RID OF HIM! I SMILED! I SMILED!' He pounded on my chest – he was very strong and now his anger multiplied his strength. He wailed and I held him more tightly now. Kazuo, you are finally alive.

' Shhh, please, don't cry.' I slowly sobbed, I became easily emotional. This was my weak point but, ' Please Kazuo-kun don't cry. I'm sorry…that you are going through so much pain but…I'm happy you can cry again, feel again. That is why you can remember them, never cheapen their deaths, even the worst of them deserved better so never…forget…don't forget your mom, your gang or anyone. Honor them Kazuo-kun, honor them by remembering them.'

I felt him cup my face. I looked at him as he edged closer. I…what…his nose touched mine…I… ' Please don't cry Noriko. I…hate to see you cry…I was angry at you before…for making a person again. I…was cruel…because I wanted you to suffer…but, I never really wanted you to be pain. But I hate to see you cry…' he was so close, ' I hate to see to cry…I don't want you to become cold.'

I put my hands over his, ' Kazuo-kun, I, we can't stay here…I mean not only in this place…this country, we must leave it…we are now fugitives…I think you could stay. I believe your father could protect you…but…I can't…I mean…' He was so close to me I blushed but, there was another matter at hand. I meant it I would never leave Kazuo but…I couldn't stay in this country either…

' I'm coming with you Noriko.' He stated as he pulled away from my face and sat straight. His tall height contrasted against my petite one, ' I cannot go back either. Even, if I could I know that I will eventually be by myself. No one could connect with me and my scars would remain. I also do not wish to vex my father. I know I'll be trouble to him if I return even if he wanted me back I would decline. So, wherever you go Noriko-chan I'll go with you.' He smiled. It was a glorious smile. It reminded me of Shuya's smile. It had the same glow…wait Noriko-chan…

' Noriko-chan…?' I repeated looking at his face.

' Hai – Noriko-chan.' He put a finger on top of my nose, ' That's you.' He grinned and chuckled. I giggled. It was nice to see him so _animated_. ' Noriko, where are you planning of going?'

' Shuya, wanted to go to America.' I stated; it made me sad recalling his enthusiastic feelings over singing, ' I still think that's the best option. Though, I'm a bit worried if I could adjust with a foreign country and its customs.'

' Do not worry Noriko.' Kazuo smiled at him, ' I know perfect English.' Then he spoke some words flawlessly as I sat awe in amazement. ' I have also studied much of America. I think we can make it.' Then he held my hands in his as I stared, ' I know we'll make it Noriko. God has been with us all this way.' He spoke softly, ' I'd like to believe that we will make it.'

' Me too.' I looked at his hands. Those hands that had killed now were so affectionate. They acted as my sanctuary.

' Yes, I believe you two can make it.' Mr. Tanaka's voice came through and we let go off each other's hands – he was grinning profusely – I wondered what he was thinking –  
' I've made some good plans you two. In two days you'll leave.' Then he added, ' In two days you can say goodbye to me and to Japan.'

' We will not forget you Mr. Tanaka.' Kazuo stated with a sincere tone, ' You've done for us what many would cringe to do.'

' Mr. Tanaka, I will always remember you in my heart.' I knew that I was going to cry. Kazuo was right. How many would risk their lives for strangers?

' You two are like my kids!' he exclaimed heartily, ' Besides – those damned government bastards deserve the amount of crisis your rebellion has caused them. They are fucked up sons of bitches if they think we're gonna rat you two out just because _they _say so and just because they _think _they are _right_ and _you _are _wrong_. Where I'm standing I see God wanting you two kids to live and I as hell ain't gonna let anything change that.'

I smiled and he smiled as well. Kazuo has a very beautiful smile. ' I'm…thank-you Mr. Tanaka…Kazuo I want to go to sleep…I'll see you tomorrow alright.' I got up.

' Goodnight Noriko-chan.' He bid me with a smile.

' Goodnight Kazuo-kun.' I smiled as I walked out of his room with Mr. Tanaka. For some reason he went on grinning like a madman, ' What?!' I cried out with a slice of annoyance but I couldn't help but blush as he chuckled about.

I blushed deeper as I remembered Kazuo's warmth pressed against my body. He was so warm. The machine has shed its metal layer and has finally grown human flesh. Kazuo was now alive. He was free from the blankness. He was human again.

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**Author's Note:** I guess some people will shoot me seeing "sentimental Kiriyama" but I believed if he ever regained his emotions he might have that childlike animation and sensitivity. Well please tell me what you guys think.

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	3. Curiosity

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I really don't need to put a disclaimer. This is a fanfic (cries) oh the agony!

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**Skin **

III

Curiosity

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Just a child; he is after all, just, a child. A kid like me and unlike me: I drink some green tea Mr. Tanaka had given me. It's like a goodbye present. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I must say goodbye eternally to Japan. 

The thought doesn't upset me so much…I guess; I guess I must be prepared. Shuya and Shogo had given their lives for this. I must honor that. There is no other way – I must become stronger now.

I'm in my room. It's always too quite here. It's more like a closet. Kazuo had gotten a proper room as he required one for his injuries and his poor mental health. Holding him I realized that three months was torturous for him. The poor boy slept because of it. I didn't tell him I knew he woke up at times at night. I knew it was nightmares – actions are so vividly sketched in his mind. The power and curse of focus on such an act does him this deed. I cannot believe I had forsaken him for three months. But I know I could not have helped him. My tears would only increase his guilt. My agony would maul his being. My perspiration would cause him fever. In the end I would stimulate a most sickness. He needed someone and that someone wasn't me. Now, however, I can control my emotions. Some of Kazuo's previous aloofness may have channeled into me – actually, I'm exaggerating, I mean I can stay calm; though anyone who knew my story will show a certain delicate sympathy at my quietness. They'll know how misery creates it.

' Umm…Kazuo…' I entered his room. He was not there it seemed. I instantly became worried only to be calmed by the sound of water which I heard now. He must have been taking a shower in the adjoining bathroom.

A corner of his room caught my attention. Three or four books were stacked there. He had taken up reading again already? I smiled at his enthusiasm. I knew he had a love for reading. That is why I presume it was easier for him to read when he became a sociopath. He was habituated to it.

So, he was always curious. Curious to learn: a very good habit indeed if honed rightly. These past years for him may have caused the curiosity in him to become perverted for his aloofness but now it seemed freshly restored. It was a very good thing.

I looked at the titles, they were all English books – actually; they were of one specific writer – Sidney Sheldon. There was _Morning, Noon_ _and Night_, _Rage of Angels_, _Bloodline_ and the newly published _Are you Afraid Of The Dark_? I had only read _Rage Of Angels_ though I knew the stories of the other ones except the last novel. I had always been eager to read them.

' Oh Noriko…' it was Kazuo's voice. It sounded nervous. I turned around to discover why. He was only enveloped in a towel that had only been there to keep his waist and legs hidden. There in front of me was Kazuo Kiriyama with his body exposed. I blushed. I had to…I never…I wasn't expecting to see such a chiseled physique. Such a flawless one…for except for a few battle wounds…he still retained unblemished skin: I knew where he received those. He must have acquired them from Hiroki. Though the fact made me very suffocated I managed to calm myself. For some reason I could only reason his horrendous actions due to his childlike behavior; his, I suppose, curiosity. Still, a part of me looking at him now did not conceive him as a child. I saw him like Adonis. I…never thought such a feeling…

' I'm sorry.' I blushed deeper. ' I'll leave.' I almost scrambled out before his voice prevented me.

'It's ok.' He motioned for me to sit down, ' I'll go change inside.' He headed back towards the bathroom.

I sat down as he had requested me and examined the English books. Though _Rage Of Angels_ was difficult for me to read I had managed it quite adequately I suppose. In the middle of reading the first page of _Are you Afraid Of The Dark?_ I revisited the memory of perfection: Kazuo's body. I blushed and felt like slapping myself. Only the reentry of Kazuo wearing a sweatshirt and jeans restrained me. My eyes worked as an automatic x-ray and saw through the apparel he wore. I slapped myself in my mind to break this ridiculous behavior.

' I see you are taking to Sheldon.' I simply point out the volumes he seemed interested to read.

' Yes, he's a great writer in his country – though,' he sat next to me, ' In our country his works are rarely distributed due to the fact he is an American writer who directly and indirectly shows how rebellion against totalitarian organizations should be encouraged. You might say that his works are banned.'

' Yes. I feel pretty much like his books.' I look at him, ' We are banned products as well for opposing the wishes of our government by fleeing our country.'

' Yes, and we are going back to the place where we belong, America.' He stated. We both laughed at this feeble humor. We knew that this fleeing as fugitives never crossed our minds. I knew Kazuo never even daydreamed upon it. It was a rare situation; One that would be severe.

' Actually,' I started looking at him and then at a book, ' I guess we truly belong where our hearts belong.' Though it sounded romantic and truly odd I believed it to be so. However, I never expected Kazuo to so eagerly believe in it too.

' Yes. You are right Noriko-chan. We are truly what we are in our hearts or as we say our feelings – our innermost feelings beyond the confusion and the tensions. Those feelings influence our logic and our instincts. That is why no two human beings can be the same only _similar_.'

' Kazuo, no matter where we go I want us to be together.' I urgently pressed his hand with my own. I knew not what caused my suddenness, ' We are friends now and though our friendship has just started we must stay close.' I whispered, ' After all this I would like to stay close with a person who knows how it feels to see the madness of death and despair –' I added quickly then, ' No matter what his actions were – I know you do _now_ feel the consequences of such an insanity. That serves as a comfort to me. It makes me know that I'm alive and that I'm not alone.'

Kazuo held my hand. He looked at me with a sorrowful smile, ' I do not wish to leave you.' He pressed his hand against my cheek, ' I feel the same way now. We are going to never separate. God forbid such a thing. I only know that whatever road we take in our new lives our old ones' echoes will surely keep us close.' He smiled cheerfully, ' That is agreeable to me. How could it not be? How can a lonesome person like me deny a willing friend? After all that has happened you trusted me Noriko. You don't know what a relief it served to my soul.' He closed his eyes to take a deep breath. Then he exhaled as if whole action personified his tranquility.

' Kazuo-kun, what will, I mean – what will you do? When we reach our destination we must do something. I haven't decided yet…have you?' I inquired. I recalled Shuya's eagerness at being a guitarist. It made me solemnly quiet for some moments.

' I believe Shuya was going to sing. He was very good Noriko, he would have been a hit.' As solemn as my silence was Kazuo's statement, etched in respect and honor. ' I know I posses no skill of his whatsoever to sing…but, I can play the violin. I think I'm good at it. Shuya made me realize that I never _felt_ the music. Thought it was dismal as death. Thought it was similar to the screams of the dying. How exceedingly perverted I was to jump to that conclusion. But now I wish to correct it. I want to feel the music. See it come alive as it did for Shuya. I must _truly_ hone my talents at playing the violin.' He smiled, ' That is what I wanna do.'

The information on death and violin piqued my sensitivity. Yes, only a misguided child would jump to that conclusion. I believe that Kazuo may have thought death to be ambivalent. Something like a violin that played on despite the audience's interest or boredom: Death came like a crow and a dove. He wasn't all wrong but still he wasn't accurately right either. The infant mentality aroused him. Still his realization of this and his honor of Shuya freed my soul from the mountain of solemn silence. ' You're so kind Kazuo.' Though his previous actions encouraged the contrary how could his newly found maturity be expelled of it. Kazuo-kun was kind in honoring Shuya's love for music by trying to discover it on his own.

' It is not kindness.' Kazuo solely spoke in a declaration, ' I must now see my classmates as human beings. See their passions only then can I know and maybe then in some twisted way I can call them my friends.'

' They have forgiven you Kazuo.' I take his hand and place it in my lap, ' They can see us. God is taking care of them. We have their blessings I know of it.'

' I guess so.' He muttered focusing on my lap. I let go of his hand thinking it was causing him some strange feeling only to have him hold my hand once more. Was he curious now? Was he curious to see what it meant to hold hands? Usually, it is a romantic gesture done out of passion. This gesture did not have that kind of romanticism. It was building. Building our bonds, our friendship: I guess Kazuo begun apprehending this as before I had not seen him with a girl or boy intimately in an act of romance or even platonic comfort. He was discovering the feeling of skin – of body contact between two people who felt alone after an ordeal. I wonder if his old self of assessment and order still exists. It should, to some extents, after all one becomes habituated and it is very easy to become familiar with curiosity.

' What would you say  
To me, If I flew away from you?  
What would you say?  
Near death and life,  
While it fades away  
To dust and light  
Is it so, very wrong?

Is it so, very right?  
Besides giving one last hope  
Giving one hopeless chance  
Will you remain so clueless?  
Or could you not – for yourself?  
For could you not think for me?

In me, you can place your depth  
In me, enshrine me, with your curiosity  
So I am become eternal to you, for you, being your treasure.' Kazuo looked at me. Oops, I think I had started singing without any notice, ' I'm sorry.' I blushed, ' I make my own songs at times. That was one of them.'

' You have a talent for singing. Is that all - does it have any more lines?' he smiled as I had piqued his interest.

' Yes, I think…' I got excited all of a sudden. ' I think I'll make more lines:

More laughter  
More tears  
More conscience quotes  
More agonizing bites  
They prove to give you recollection.  
Everything widens like a grin  
But still you see your skin glowing

As if you are in a sanctuary of the living.  
Whiten ghosts and pale spirits own your soul  
Place in me your anti-curse, your blessing  
Enshrine underneath me your curiosity  
So you may leave, leave in your dreamboat…'

I kept on singing as Kazuo listened intently. I could have sworn I glanced at Mr. Tanaka. I still did not stop singing though his Cheshire cat smiles caused me to slightly uncomfortable at presuming what he presumed of us. I continued for Kazuo's comfort compelled my earnestness; he looked so lively hearing my own-invented song. I think he felt it as he closed his eyes several times: I blushed for I did not know he will be affected in such a manner. I guess to feel is curiosity in itself.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I had only recently heard of Mr. Sheldon passing away. I am truly upset for from age twelve to sixteen I had read with addiction all his works. It pains me as he was the writer who literally colored my teenage years and had inspired me. I had only last year read his autobiography, _The Other Side Of Me_, and his last published work, _Are_ _you Afraid Of The Dark?_ I hope everyone who has enjoyed his works know he will be a timeless author (Last year he even had an article of an interview in **Reader's Digest**). I dedicate this chapter to him and Anna Nicole Smith, who also recently died. The song here can be called curiosity; I wrote it so if it really is out of tune excuse me for the disaster.

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	4. Sail

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IV

Sail  
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So, this was it – my heart pounded as I neared my residence. I was using stealth for I had a feeling anything could happen at any moment. I knew he would come out any moment. I just wanted to see him one last time.

' Kazuo.' He called out softly, afraid and I voluntarily came into the light.

' Hello father.' I didn't say it blankly as I use to; it had an emotion. Blended sadness and solemnity, respect and joy: I know it's been long since he has seen me like this. And long is very **long** in my case.

My father without any hesitation grabbed me in an embrace and softly cried and I hugged him back. A few tears escaped from me as well. I knew the reasons for his miseries and joys and I just was happy to see him unaffected by the government for my _crimes_.

' Kazuo.' He clutched my face, ' My boy…' he looked into my eyes, ' You have become alive again.' It was the miraculous signs of emotions that made him weep more. He was my father and he had seen me when I was child. After the accident I knew that by consequence I myself branded myself as nobody to him. Now I was once more his progeny.

' I got shot.' I dumbly say it. My father stares at me, as if wanting me to go further but I just stare at him. It is the first time we are having a proper conversation.

' What happened?' he hadn't let me off his embrace. He looked pale as if he was seeing a ghost – to the world I am for I was supposed to die.

' My friend Noriko shot me and it hit me in my head…' I pointed to my face at the place where she had shot me with the scab less visible now, ' I think it did something right. I am no longer dead anymore dad. I am a person again.'

Tears just came to his eyes, ' Just when you are living again you have to leave me…' he let go of me, unwillingly, as he shuddered, ' I wonder what your mother would say. I am such a failure to as a father. I should have known you would've gone to the program – tried to stop it! Tried to stop it! Now you are an exile!'

' Dad!' I grabbed him, ' Despite the bleak circumstances – I'm happy at what happened! Without this ordeal, this thing to rip my apathy apart I wouldn't have come alive again!' I know he was hurt deep inside, ' Besides…dad I wanted to thank-you…you always tolerated me. I was more of a machine you possessed rather than a son: But, thank-you for still tolerating me.'

' You idiot!' My father slapped me, hard. Naturally, I was shocked. ' Kazuo, you are my son! I'm there to be by your side even though your real father left long before he got to know you…' he softly revealed something I never imagined hearing.

' What?' I inquire, surprised, nerve-bending bewilderment seizing me.

' Kazuo, you're not really my son.' He whispered, ' Your mother and I before your birth use to have many quarrels and so the result was an affair in your mother's part. You know it was my fault. She was going through a difficult time, her work wasn't going too well but I really didn't bother to understand. So, she had an affair with a colleague and well…he died during a yakuza gang fight…caught in the middle of the carnage. Your mother confessed to me but I had forgiven her – because it was my fault: I shouldn't have given her the cold shoulder when she really needed me. I'm sorry Kazuo…I shouldn't be telling you all of this right now but…I just…well…I just wanted you to know…'

' You're my father and that's all I need to know.' I put my hand on his shoulder. Despite this revelation I did not stop believing he was my father. The meaning of father does not limit itself to the biological contributor and where I stand I am a Kiriyama. I need not know my real father's nor do I care if I find out or not because my mother was married to my father and thus I became a Kiriyama under his care. I do not wish to argue with the settings of that arrangement.

My father smiles, ' Did the program give you that bruise?'

I unconsciously, without a second thought, touch my left eye, yes, the program did cause it. The program and me, Shuya was not really there to blame. If I had not sought to kill him maybe then he wouldn't have thrown the spearhead.

' I'm such an idiot, of course that damned program is responsible for everything.' My father sighs, then he looks at me more penetratingly, ' Can you…can you see anything with that eye Kazuo?' he says it softly.

' Only at times and not with a proper focus, if I try to squint and see it irritates me.' I trace my bruised eye and know that I have a slight scar underneath it. It is miraculous I can even see slightly with that. Shuya didn't intend to hurt me I guess, his adrenalin wanted me to delay the idea of me attempting to kill him. Shuya, there aren't many people in the world like him. I truly miss him.

' I see.' He smiles sadly, ' So you are leaving tonight?' he looks more sad now, tears are crossing over more freely, ' I know where you are gonna go and I…don't ever come back to Japan. This ain't your home anymore…even if you hear they've done something to me don't fucking ever come back. You keep on living now. Protect that girl as well. You two will always need each other.'

' Dad…' I start, my sentimentality beckons me to try to console him.

' Listen to me dammit!' he moves a bit back, ' You must promise me to never return unless the circumstances are dire for **_yourself_** not for me or anyone! Your mother wanted you to live and so do I! Never forget the fact that you must go on for us! For our sakes! Kazuo…' He puts his hands on my shoulders, ' Is there anything you want from your room? Anything, is there anything you would like?'

I then hold his hands, let them down from my shoulders, ' Give me a picture of you and mom, and a picture of my room, I don't know why I want that but please do. And please, you know that picture of mom, the king sized one, on the hall, next to the staircases, don't ever replace it. That's all I want.'

' Wait here.' My father commands and runs off. I wait for ten minutes – it is almost time for me to leave. My time here is up – I must go to the docks now. Noriko is waiting there for me…Noriko and I…we are starting a life together…

' Here.' He hands me the photos with…with my violin, ' You need these things.'

I look at my violin and I really do want to cry. All these explosions of emotions are so foreign to me but I embrace them. A single tear is all I let out and then I look at my father. I smile a radiant smile, ' Goodbye Dad, Let God keep you safe.'

' Goodbye son, I thank God for making you miss your trip to death.' He cannot help it, he starts crying. We embrace for one final time. Then as I keep smiling, I rush off into the darkness of the night as fast as I could.

I don't look back and my tears are constant. I never thought home as home before but now…it was different…it was painful…I was going now to Noriko…we are setting off…this was the final goodbye.  
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' … But I…You **know I can't do that!** Please Mom? **I Can't! **He'll come home they'll let him go after…they'll let him go…I'm Sorry…! I know…I'm Sorry…! Mom…?... I'm…I've got to go…You Believe what you want. I know what I believe. I'm sorry we have to say goodbye like this… No, No, Mom…You'll always have a daughter, like it or…Mom? Mom…?'

I could hear and see the trembling, crying tone of Noriko Nakagawa, something seemed awfully wrong with the conversation. She threw herself upon me as I cam nearer. Despite my sudden rush of panic at her situation I held her back, ' You okay? You get through to them?' I know she did but her anxiety caused my inquiry. She looked so grieve-stricken.

' Uh-Huh.' All she muttered as her voice came out, buried with an unmistakable heaviness, even as her face was muffled by my chest.

' For all the good it did…' the enigmatic woman aiding us remarked sardonically, obviously referring to Noriko's mom, ' Waste of secure line, if you ask me. Government's trace should be bouncing all over Southeast Asia right about now. All so she could get a face full of shit.'

' Yeah……but she had to…' I remember the meeting with my dad, ' Even if it was bad…she had to.'

' Well I believe the meeting with your dad was successful.' She remarked, the mysterious lady looked impressed, ' He must be really high up the social ladder to be able at least partially subdue surveillance even in a crisis such as two program _winners_ escaping _alive_.'

' My father has his ways and I think the government thinks I thought going back to my home wouldn't be a such good idea…' I concluded my answer to her curiosity, ' Besides…' I added softly as an after note, ' The old me would have called it an out-of-logic decision.' The government may not have delved about my rebirth.

' You killed Shinji didn't you?' the woman suddenly probed it and I was shocked and so was Noriko. She had a cool mask on her face now despite her smile. I realized it instantly. She was related to him.

' Yes.' I mumbled, almost incomprehensively. The pain in my chest multiplied to an unsurpassable concentration of guilt. Here I was near a relative of Shinji's and I in point blank range told her I killed him.

' Did he go down easy?' she softly asked.

I was so nervous, so guilt-stricken that Noriko feared for my health, she intervened, ' Miss, please – ' I decided to intercept.

' No, he didn't die easy. He was a real warrior. I shot him first and his guts came out. He duck-taped his spilled intestines and then I shot him, missed him 'cause his foot got in the way so that got blown. He tried to get rid of me with a bomb he made but I happened to jump into a light truck. When Shinji thought he got rid of me out of the explosion I shot him. But, he was adamant, he still wouldn't die. He had a good gun I wanted it so I approached him as he was lying down. He pretended to be dead. Then, just as he scores in his basketball games, he shot at me. Unfortunately, he missed but I was shocked, beyond my wildest dreams – after all that beating he took, he survived. But I was the bastard, instead of letting him die in piece. I shot him on his chin so his brain would die then I just walked away looking back at my ultimate challenge.'

' Kazuo.' Noriko grabbed my, I've been speaking as if I was bewitched, as if I was under a spell. I remembered Shinji's defeated face when I finally shot him. That image will never leave me. I felt a single drop of water on my cheek.

The woman looked at me unfazed. She smiled wearily, ' It was in Shinji's nature never to call it quits – he was always so stubborn. I'm proud to know that he fought to the end, never caved in even when he was fading, didn't fear death. I am proud that he was the warrior I always knew him to be till the very end. And you, I forgive you Mr. Ex-Sociopath – hating you won't bring Shinji back nor help you to heal. You just promise to protect that girl right next to you. Shinji would have wanted that too.'

' How do you know…?' Noriko started as I started agape at her response.

' Well, I know a lot of things about you two and I am Shinji's Aunt but let's not get into the details; In the car. Let's not keep your ride waiting.' She got in as we stared and silently followed suit.

' Here's the itinerary. There's a fishing village about six K from here. That's where you pick up a fishing boat. That's just a shuttle. You'll be passed off to a trawler well into international waters. That's your ride to the states.' She briefed us in and we did our mission. Before we left she bid us farewell in the unique way, ' …I couldn't save Shinji. You two are poor substitutes. Sorry. Harsh I know, -- But true. That means you make this work. For Shinji and every kid that died on that fucking island. **YOU MAKE THIS WORK!**'  
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' Nice Violin. Did your dad give that to you?' Noriko asked, we were in the cargo hold; sitting together in the dark with nothing but a lamp illuminating our bodies: our symbolic hope as we were close together.

' Yes, he did.' I took out the photos and looked at them wearily.

' Is that your mom she's beautiful!' Noriko squealed and her voice became my angelic guardian. There was a crisis in my mind and she soothed it. ' That's your father and, - that's your room?'

' My mom showed me this room over ten years ago.' I narrated the significance of the picture, ' She told me I took my first steps there so I have to live there. I just thought that was important.'

She held my hand, ' That is important Kazuo. That's more than just important. It's a treasure.'

I smiled then I realized something, ' Wait a minute…I have no idea what you want to do once we get there! I mean…I'm all about being the violinist, but…'

I believe Noriko hadn't really mentioned what she wanted to be when we got there. I was very curious to know, it was an extreme need for me to know. Noriko looked at her hands, it seems she was blushing, she was avoiding eye-contact with me.

' I'm…still working on it. Once I've got it worked out, I'll show you, 'kay?' She muttered as she looked at her fingernails.

I looked inquisitively at her and went puzzled, ' …? Okay sure. Whenever you're ready…' I really hadn't a clue to what she was referring to.

' Yeah.' She smiled softly, ' I just have to…you know.' She was keeping a secret, a splendid surprise to give to me. I will wait patiently for it.

' I know this will work Noriko-chan…' I cheerfully told her, ' We survived the program. We can survive anything…together…now…'

My cheerfulness disappeared when I saw Noriko crying. There was an instant pang, what was wrong! ' Noriko-chan…?'

She was in a trance, ' Yeah…we survived…'m okay.' Then the tears erupted with gentle sobs waiting to become wails, ' We are fugitives now Kazuo-kun. We can no longer ever go back to our homes…my mom…my mom…pretty much disowned me. She wanted me to turn myself in so that they would give my brother back…how many people are being persecuted because we did what we did? We didn't stop the program Kazuo-kun…we just preempted it while they hunt for us.'

I couldn't stand it seeing her cry like that. In a instance I just embraced her despite her surprise, ' We must not think about that. We should never think about that. We must remember to live on. That island made us know, made me know, how precious life is. We should not, for no reason, give it up. The government cannot, should not win. We don't have much but our friends; we must also live on for them. Ever morning, every day should be a blessing for us because – because we are no longer in that fucking island. We'll make it through Noriko-chan, I know, we will, we must. **WE MUST MAKE THIS WORK! FOR EVERYONE! NEVER FORGET! NEVER CHEAPEN THEIR DEATHS BY PUSHING THE MEMORY AWAY…EVEN THE WORST OF THEM DESERVED BETTER…IF I GOT THIS CHANCE IT'S FOR THEM. ALL THE LIVES I TOOK I MUST REPENT. IT'S FOR THEM!**'

I envision everyone then. All of them who died, looking at us and smiling as if they were our guardian angels; including Hiroki's sensei, Shinji's uncle (both whom I have heard have been killed) and Shuya's parents. I see Shuya next to Yoshitoki; he's got a guitar in his hand. He's smiling as I hold Noriko, he smiles at me ' _Take_ _care of her Kazuo.'_

' Kazuo, Kazuo you're – you're crushing me.' She announced as I realized that my embrace became more of a deadlock.

' Oh…what…I'm sorry Noriko…I…' I look at her frantically as she caresses my face.

' You believe we'll make it don't you then I believe in it, in us going through with this: Because I really believe in you.' Noriko assures me everything.  
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' _They_ _say Catharsis is good so I'm writing this from some paper I scrounged from the captain. I'm throwing it over board as soon as I'm done. Noriko is asleep and I bid her sweet dreams. What of my dreams, I guess I can't ask that…I'm the devil so I need eternal damnation, though Noriko-chan thinks otherwise. I guess this is where you come looking for a happy ending. Sorry to disappoint. Oh no, we made it alright. I think I owe this to everyone, especially Shuya. His death hurt me the most, I know Noriko cries sometimes in her sleep – I owe Shuya for a lot of things. He was human in the island while I was the machine. Well, I never told Noriko how much the death of Shuya meant to me…Not even when things were good. And Things were good a lot longer than they had a right to be. Hitching a ride in the snow. That's the memory that sees me through the rough patches. Things were good one hell of a lot longer than they had a right to be. But, I'll see it through, with her, by my side. I know, I'll see it through.' _

FUCKING GAME. WELL IT'S GAME OVER. NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSERS. Guess what, we made it to New York City.

Noriko published her **HEVEN **the thing she had been working on or shall I say Keiko Nanahara published it, her penname. Well Battle Royale is over, now the true battle begins. The battle to start our lives anew…together…  
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**Author's Note: **Ok, I guess many of you noticed how I copied the lines directly from the English Adaptation – well, those lines aren't mine so you don't come to sue me. I just did it for the realistic effect. If you read Noriko's profile you'll know that her primary talent is writing and in the last scene of the manga she's holding a book called HEVEN so she must have written a book with that name – the thing she wanted to show Shuya, the thing she was working with. So I included it. I'll update soon!  
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	5. Purpose

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**Author's Note: This chapter was inspired by another Battle** **Royale fanfic one of my best friends is writing (It's a Kazuo/Mitsuko) Hope you guys enjoy!**

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Skin  
V  
Purpose

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Surrounded by an alien world may seem glorious to many. I didn't know how I felt. I was so unstable. I was in a fit of euphoria and hysteria both. I bet Mitsuru would have wanted to see me in this light. I bet he wondered "Why does boss never smile?' But I could not then even if I wanted to.

New York City is a labyrinth of culture, style and metabolism. Here you can see Japan, India, Bangladesh, France, Scotland, Korea and almost every country in a minority or majority. It stupefied me and I wanted to learn everything of the city as soon as possible.

' You're so like a child.' Noriko giggled seeing my appetite, my growing starvation to learn the methodologies that govern this awesome empire of variety. Hearing her comment made me smile. She wore a denim miniskirt with a jade spaghetti top – so alluring to me, I wouldn't mind learning he-ah-her-I mean the…uh…uh…I'm so tongue-tied – no make that lust-tied.

I had noted Noriko's attractiveness from before but as my hormones were regulated by a sluggish pace expected of a sociopath; my needs to discover the female body had been imprisoned to only certain pornographic magazines and other explicit materials, including the aesthetical information in literature.

The only aspect of the female body I had studied was its biological variances to that of my own gender. The menstrual cycle, the womb: the mammary glands and the effects of estrogen. I'm ashamed to say that I, Kazuo Kiriyama, have only never understood the complete beauty of my opposite gender but have never kissed a girl either. Ok, I am weird, but not that much. I have fantasized and I had pleasured myself even when I was a sociopath – funny, sometimes the object of my **affections then** was Mitsuko, but mostly slender women I had seen on magazine covers, who adolescent boys like myself, covet.

Noriko, I had noted her beauty. Her body wasn't buxom or voluptuous as Mizuho's or Mitsuko's, neither did it have that lusty firmness of Takako's, nor was it really catching as Yukie's: but it had something special, something rarer. That something was something – I have no word to describe it.

' Are you okay?' her lips were pushed a little in a pout-like manner but it wasn't a frowning effect – it was cute one: A one blending with curiosity and care.

' Yes, just overexcited.' I humbly place the subtle truth. I was ecstatic at my return to normality facing girls. It was funny I was attracted towards Noriko. I believe our ordeal is causing these things. But…it isn't only our ordeal. Before: At times I had observed Noriko with my cold eyes in class. There was a delicate depth upon her. She for many, was average but something – her writing perhaps? – had made me dart my attention towards her many a times. It is in these ministrations I found her twinges of affection for one Shuya Nanahara. It was a topic in which I delved in at times – how is it a girl as ordinary and poignant as Noriko crave to be in Shuya's spotlight. It troubled me because I found their match _illogica_l. I dared to question the principles of her affections as hormonal stimulus. My analytical mind deduced, in a way the sociopath would induce, that her match with him would hold no glory. In absolute definition: she **deserved way better** than Shuya. That is what I found myself thinking.

Noriko wasn't the only person I studied. I actually thought Shuya to be my antithesis. It was very funny but while I relied solely on probability and scholarly numbers, he was busying himself with a charge from his mind and a tickle from his soul. He was the very substance that I held envy for. He could feel and just because I was a sociopath does not mean I was entirely numb. I did get bewildered at Mitsuko's final revelation didn't I?

I read a lot because I began seeing the world in grey and black. The color, the intrusion to not always listen to instinct, was now immobilized. I know color-blindness was not really the issue: I considered my own self to being handicapped. Why? Because there was no true feeling, only slight surges of ecstasy, pain, relief and contentment. There weren't anymore those feelings of a high stature; my soul could no longer flirt with life (as one could put in romantically) and I detested myself. I saw myself in the mirror hoping to blink back in a certain portion of a disorderly manner. Nothing…just there: in my stoic perfection. In the back of the pit in my soul I know I was consumed, to the degree my damaged brain allowed, with hate at my own image. But I killed so I could protect myself. That blasted poking of instinct betrayed my humanity but still…God wrote a second chance for me. I must be the luckiest bastard in this universe.

' Overexcited or daydreaming…?' she playfully pulled my arm and revived my distant consciousness as I stared at her innocuous smile. I believe my heart gave a surge of an impulse I had no thesis on. Guess studying fiction and fact doesn't teach you everything; nor does participation. I think we need to open our true eyes a bit more. ' Kazuo-kun why are you staring at me like that…is something wrong?' ok, eyes should be kept normal – it's the soul I should remind myself to open.

' You got me.' I laughed, ' I was daydreaming because I was over-excited. I have never been to New York before.' I was thinking too much right now. I must enjoy her company: Sweet little angel…

' Yes,' her face softened, ' I never thought going abroad for me would be for such circumstances.' It pained her, ' I guess I still miss home.'

' Noriko, whether we like it or not this is our home now.' I consoled her with the nudge of reality, ' Besides,' I smiled, ' Our country has a more Nazi-type approach don't you think. This place affords more freedom. We can listen to rock n' roll here: wanna hear some of Springsteen?'

That lifted her spirits, ' Yes, let's, let's go for it!' I knew it was Shuya's favorite. "Born To Run" I know you are running there Shuya. And…you were always born to be the true perfection.

Noriko's lips gave me peace in their glorious emergence; like angel wings – literature defines her smile.

* * *

**Heven** was published as a collection of short stories focuses on one boy's rebellious nature. The characters there were modeled after our class – I bet they would have been excited to read it. The models were mostly based on Shuya, Shogo, Shinji and Hiroki – the female protagonist in the story interacting with all these models and was ever-present in all the stories was sculptured after Mitsuko and Keiko, Shogo's love. The quality was excellent. We printed it as shorts in a local newspaper but it is a book. The manuscript of **Heven** has a cover and represents a book – the cover design was grafted by me. Noriko told me to paint it as she recalled; that to her, my art skills were the finest.

I had no chagrin in doing this. My virtuoso in arts wasn't a true one. Though all artists at first attempt to imitate others before they branch into their originality, my pieces were solely imitation. I had no creative fruit to savor in my own being. So, as now I had emotions, the prospects of my own skills annoyed me. I attempted to be creative but failed miserably. This is because I lacked passion and could not intertwine my soul with the muses of this fine practice. I became frustrated and incited beyond anything that was before present. Even my abuse by Jaguar (which I recollected as my finest hour of anger prior to my emotions being unsealed) did not encourage impatience in me. Sheets and Sheets of paper were strewn on the floor, on the dust bin – I was finally the struggling artist.

' Take your time.' She advised with a consoling hand, enveloping my right shoulder. I wore a four quarter T-shirt but her hand sent signals freely to my skin. Such a soothing hand…what other places could it…I mean – ' Kazuo-kun, please be patient…' she sat next to me with my temperatures elevating, so adorable, ' See, when I write I need to rewrite as well. '

' But, doesn't that take time…' how absolutely stupid did I sound. I looked so naïve – I wasn't used to striving. Even in my childhood…I merely imitated and found glory. But was it true glory – the time I made the robot held a small audience but I felt the ovation – it was the most creative thing I ever did.

' Yes Kazuo-kun, ' she giggled affectionately at my naivety while I sat mesmerized, she has seen the world, verily, I have only gaped at it as a door to open and close, I didn't look upon it as a revolutionary wheel, there was the problem, ' But…' she slowly softened her face, ' You'll get to enjoy it more.'

' Enjoy it more?' I did not understand and earnestly gave a stunned look: I wanted her to be my teacher to comprehend reality.

' No matter what your talent or genius, you must understand that first-time success is not always the key success.' She explained cheerfully, ' If you strive and toil and even if your efforts seemed unpaid than your reward always was that you grew in your talent.'

' But how it you grow when you fail…?' my voice beckoned the incoherence of a three-year old and an average Joe would think me blatantly blinded in reality. He would assume right – my inability at failure has deterred my true understanding of things. I'm such a child.

Noriko gave me an affectionate gaze, ' If you do not fail or struggle you'll never grow because your powers of a particular talent will remain limited and you'll have no contentment and will be unable to serve your own soul to the fullest. Despite hardships and blocks I write, because I wanna grow as an author. The artist and the scientist must do the same if they ever want to see the peak of their height of capabilities.' With such patience she taught me. She was the best teacher I ever had.

' Alright Noriko.' I was extremely energized and looked more like Shuya, ' I'll do it! I'll make something original.'

And I did…after seventeen hours of arduous labor at rethinking and re-imagining things. Noriko was asleep but I was so excited I had to show her my work.

' Noriko! Noriko! I'm done! I've finally got it!' I shouted and she awoke.

' You have…' in her sleepy smile she considered me, probably, as an hyperactive child – which to my discerning I was. ' Oh Kazuo it's so beautiful.' She looked at my final piece with fascination.

' You – you like it?' I was beaming, radiating an enthusiasm an infant usually generates when he/she pleases an elder, the more experienced human being. To me Noriko was wiser than me. I so loved the idea of her being in ecstasy. I wonder if we – what, I shouldn't think up such graphic nonsense. Noriko would be appalled, but I – I wanted it…so badly…

' Yes I love it!' she flung her arms around me, her body, so delicate, around me, I feel so over-heated, ' Thank you Kazuo!'

I immediately embraced her back. It was unusual. I had never properly embraced a girl before. At some elegant parties my father had held a myriad of women and girls arrived and embraced me. I had not really embraced them back but at times I did. Some of those young girls were exquisite and sensuous. They touched me at times, affectionately and seductively. But I had avoided such intimacies. My mood was switched off around them but at school…even when I was absent from feeling…I had once thought how Noriko would feel to embrace. My _logic _was that she was an _odd _specimen among the bevies of the female population in body structure. Curvaceous: but petite which most girls lacked. Now I knew. I feel…no…not now…avoid it…but I want to…so badly…plunge into her sweetness…

' Uh…' she retreated from hugging. I was cursed and blessed equally – another minute more and my control would sever, another minute more, I'd give to feel her again, ' I'm sorry Kazuo-kun.' Her blood was puffed on her face as apples are produced out of trees, so adorable, ' I was so over-excited because of your work! It is so brilliant!' her apples ripened, ' I didn't mean to…' so nervous, ' Hug you like that so suddenly.'

' Please don't apologize.' I tell her in a semi-monotonous manner. I was upset and at the same time relieved and found that expression difficult to express - not only for what her reaction would suggest but, even my own being did not know the manner of naturally exuding it so I went to my habit of monotone gesture. Though I brightened as I remembered her satisfaction, ' But I'm glad you like it! If you ever publish the book in a complete package you might like my painting as a cover.' I suddenly realized I might be forcing her to accept it regardless her own choice, ' If…you want it to be there…' I added.

' Of course!' she exclaimed and I smiled at her willingness to accept my painting, ' I won't have it any other way!'

With it we retired to bed. I was exhausted due to my first-time rigorous efforts at achievement. Yet I dreamed and slept sweetly when I saw Noriko's absolute bliss at my work. In my dreams I did plunge into that sweetness.

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' _The_ _boy studied in front of him the calendar. Maybe today he'll buy cookies for himself…why…- he didn't know. Just felt like it. Why do clouds have to bring rain? Or why are there floods? Scientifically there is a purpose but naturally he wasn't going to examine himself scientifically. But if he would, just for the thrill of it, it may be because he dreamed of sweets and it flooded on his nerves a cloud of mysticism. Because he usually liked sour things – things to annoy his parents – it made their looks sour. So he went out to buy the cookies. As he walked he thought about **The Hours** or more specifically **Mrs. Dalloway**. She also went for simplicity as her only escape_.'

I looked at her. ' Is that the excerpt to one of the chapters?' I asked, ' Or are you gonna rewrite it?'

' I think it looks fine.' She hastily looked at me with a tone of panic, ' Does it sound mundane?'

' No, you mistake me Noriko-chan…' I quickly interjected hearing her nervousness, ' It's just that well – umm – you usually rewrite a lot.' I kind of blush remembering how cute she looked frustrated at her penmanship at times, ' You seem to do many drafts before publishing anything.'

' I know…I know…' she paced with a necessary air as I observed with interest, ' It's in my nature to be a perfectionist when I'm writing. I do drafts, drafts and drafts until I get my whole thing in _correct_ _motion_.'

' And may I ask how you know what the _correct motion_ is?' I amusingly stated with an air of humor to which she smiled.

' I don't know I guess the correct motion is when – a special feeling comes, like when you are in love – yes, when you look someone who feel happy, euphoric, rapturous and satisfied.' She gloriously gazed at me in this triumphant divine, ' You see now – treat it as love –' then she paused, ' I guess it's a kind of love, because I love writing.'

' Love.' I repeated. The concept of it was only limited to paternal and maternal affection. I could never understand the dynamics of two people of such difference or similarities become so physically, sexually, mentally and spiritually imbued and infused with one another. I think that was the only subject I ever got a migraine on. Imagine a sociopath pissed at not understanding. Yup, pretty much a migraine.

' Kazuo, have you – um – ever been love?' Noriko blushingly asks. Though we are now so free with each other we still at times have boundaries.

' No.' straightforward, monotonous and slightly hurtful: I envied people in love.

' Oh.' She feels my envy and accentuates on the phonic effect of her words. I think she pities me. From her it was a gift. ' But you will be soon.' So she doesn't pity me? ' You see people fall in love in different ways because they are different – some for understanding, others for comfort – you'll get your match in no time.'

I did not still understand. Sometimes people choose the person they are least comfortable with as their lover whilst they reject the one they opened their hearts to. Sometimes they choose a person entirely opposite of what they envisioned their hearts had craved. Sometimes they get annoyed with their loved one persistently but still holds on to them. Sometimes their romance is so sugary it feels as if it were false though real. So many diversifications on a simple thing: I wonder why this wonder requires so many branches.

One thing's for sure. No matter what the object is, love makes one happy. Not troubled with a heavy heart, but in the streams of semi-paradise, semi-stormy ocean. There will be volts of lightning but I guess they will (the couple) manage through with their love because of its unlimited bliss. But the hard fact is that no love is truly immaculate in its progress not even those of fairytales. Witches, wizards, dragons and castles plague those ever-present in the tales and the happily ever after is a subtle reminder that only one's will must survive for the love to continue. I do not believe Cinderella had no quarrels with her prince but merely did not stir near a broken fireplace to attend ugly stepsiblings – a happily ever after indeed. I guess true love is hard to find because love exists in the eye of the beholder.

' You seem lost.' Noriko came closer, ' You do not understand it…?' she read my mind.

' Not fully because I think I do not love anyone yet.' I answered then desperately inquired, ' Though in romance novels and fairytales people fall in love so easily than the people of reality.'

Noriko giggled and I blushed at my ignorance, ' That is because if a writer details too many things other plots, subplots and such become drowned so only some authors can truly write the chemistry between people…' she looked at my disdain, ' Do not worry you'll know it when you are in love. Love differs from lust and desperation so our souls seem to know.' She clutched her chest and then I saw her disdain, ' I know it started out as a crush but I believe I fell in love with Shuya.'

I looked at her instant tears as she sobbed I held her and soothingly whispered, ' I know he loved you too, so, do not forget the love but still one must move on.' I did not say the final lines because of a slight envy I felt but truthfully it was the right decision. Calling out love to one who is dead can only make them immortal so never again can they become mortal.

' Uh Kazuo-kun can I ask you something…?' she now blushed (after some minutes she had recovered) and for some time I felt oddly nervous, excited.

' Yes.' I blurt it out. But she doesn't notice the uneasiness.

' Have you…umm…' she releases herself from me, ' Ever felt…' it comes brokenly, she is unsure, ' I mean…boys usually…' she fidgets and looks away, ' I mean…have you been…ever…' she shudders and for some reason her body vibrations excites me, ' Have you ever felt sexual towards anyone before.' She almost yells and then turns around sees me bemused so she turns around. She is obviously embarrassed.

' Yes, even before, I had.' I told her, though I myself blush, towards Noriko I now feel, so, very, ' I guess it was logically stimulating as well. And you have you ever…?' the last bit pops out before I can stop myself.

' Huh…well yes, it was stimulating as well though annoying…I use to think of Shu-' she breaks off, clearly we do not why we are having such an intimate conversation, then again I slightly seethe hearing Shuya's name being called out. I mean am I insipid looking…uh, why am I thinking like this?

' Noriko,' something fiddles around my mind, the sense of it really brings forth something, ' Do you think Sho loved me in any way?'

' Sho?' she looked somewhat surprised.

' Yes. ' I mumble at the confusion, ' Though I'm not homosexual or bisexual I believe his interest in me was purely sexual. Though, as I'm not homosexual or bisexual I do not know if that was the only basis of his attraction towards me.' I look at her; could she know anything of it.

Noriko looked as if she was focused then she looked at me, ' Did anything happen aside from him calling you "Kazuo-kun" affectionately?'

' No, not really…but he made certain odd gestures at times.' I remember them, ' Those gestures sickened my hundred percent heterosexual friends…especially Mitsuru…' I smile sadly. Yes, they were my friends – logic of some sorts makes a dementia for truth.

' Really, like what?' she noted my sadness and wanted me to at least find solace in my memories deviating from my killing of those who I speak about. How can Noriko serve such a guardian angel to me? I can't explain it…

' Well.' I smile, ' My kun really exasperated Mitsuru.' I imitated Mitsuru's chagrin '" Now Sho no fag-ass nicknames ok. **Boss is boss**." Yes, that's what Mitsuru use to constantly tell Sho as he went around like as if I was this splendid carousal.' I chuckle as Noriko laughs at my imitation.

' He seemed so cruel to Sho.' She discerned but I corrected her.

' Not cruel, just annoyed.' Cruelty, that's my department, I killed them all didn't I? ' Sho perturbed me at times with his manners. He used to lick his lips while staring at me and then he would come and sit really close to me. Naturally, due to my apathy to everything, I couldn't care if he was some feet away or at a mile's distance. Though I looked at him at times and he would say, "Kazuo-kun, why don't you ever smile?" and then I would ignore him and start daydreaming again.'

' Well, he did seem to have a deep crush on you.' Noriko cheerfully dictated her point of view. She looked extremely adorable…umm…why is this, these thoughts…I'm so incredulous…

' Yes, he sure did, but crushing on someone is so different than **loving **someone. I don't know if he genuinely loved me or not – I think he didn't. After all he was really willing to kill me.' I say it monotonously, half-interested and almost too dully.

' Maybe, he loved you pre-program.' Noriko stated a bit melancholic in her manner, ' Who knows – Sho was a boy who must've really loved his life more.' She sat down and hugged her knees, ' In that sort of a situation the human mind meets paranoia.'

' Yes I know.' I say it absentmindedly, ' Mizuho paid not attention even when I shot her in the head.'

It slipped out and I was shocked. I looked at her sweet form, bewildered and almost terrified, Kazuo, you sick bastard, are you still so dead inside, ' Mizuho tried to shoot you?' she looked bewildered at that or was it the whole thing.

' Yeah.' I looked away, ashamed at my bluntness, I was an asshole from hell incarnate, ' She must have been suffering from something.' I recalled seeing her undressed in her lingerie. Her weird appearance did make me question her motives.

' Suffering?' Noriko looked astounded, ' From what Kazuo-kun.' The sweet "kun" made me realize that she did not think me a monster. Still, I should fucking watch what I'm saying.

' I think schizophrenia.' I finally find strength to stare at her, ' She made a shrine for some make-believe spirits or something and was worshipping it and she was in her underwear.'

Anyone would laugh at such a thing – not the fact of her disease but the fact that she was semi-nude, Noriko gasped, ' Oh Mizuho.' It was heart-aching to her.

' Noriko. I think we should have dinner.' I got up, this conversation wasn't healthy. I didn't want Noriko's sadness. I am a fucking bastard.

' Kazuo-kun…' she stopped me with her softness, ' Don't feel guilty. You cannot whither away in guilt.' She smiled, ' You are such a wonderful person with your emotions. You needn't need not fear that you are a monster.' She read me, ' Because you are not.'

' Noriko…' I mumbled, dumb as to what to say next.

She proceeded to come closer to me and touched my hand, ' I want pizza, what about you…?'

I wished I could capture that smile in my own, those lips in a kiss, I wanted to, she was so genteel, so kind, ' Pizza is great.' And so are you my dear Noriko…so are you…

The purpose of love and this conversation we had is not known to me. But in those things, even superficially, I found contentment. It was if I, Kazuo Kiriyama, shed logic away and found something in the blindness of randomness, a variety, a something I could not savor before. A new feeling: it was the purpose of my moment's euphoria.

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**Author's Note: Well I hope you guys liked it! I'll update soon!  
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